She Is The Sunlight
by she lives in a daydream
Summary: If right is leaving, I'd rather be wrong. And if loving her is a heartache for me, and if holding her means I have to bleed, then I am the martyr. She is the sunlight; the sun is gone.
1. And I've Lost

**Why, hello there. This is my first Mortal Instruments fic. I recently read the series and I can't believe that I didn't find them sooner; they're amazing! And since I was pissed off with the fact that I had to wait like nine months until the next one, I decided it was time to write a fanfic. This was an idea I considered doing for _Vampire Academy _between Rose and Dimitri. I really wanted to do it, but when I heard the song "She Is The Sunlight" by Trading Yesterday last night after finishing _City of Fallen Angels_, I couldn't help myself, and thus, resulted in this. **

**So, with that being said, there are a few things I would like to say. One, I know that Jace's last name is really Herondale, but to me, he's always going to be a Wayland, because that's the name I first learned to love him with and therefor, he will always be Wayland to me. Gtfo. Two, this is an all human story, so things are obviously different - Jace is roughly 26 and Clary is roughly 25, and they will be out of character ... I'll try my hardest to make them like how they are in the books, but sometimes, that's just not possible. Three, while I have been in a situation similar to the one Clary was in, mine was verbal, not so much physical. I'm gathering information from my friend who has been in this situation, spending countless of hours obsessing over _Law and Order: Special Victims Unit_, and research. Four, I've been to New York City ... once. Like I said, I've done research - but that doesn't always turn out to be right, now does it? And lastly, this is a seven-shot. Or something like that. It's a short story, how about that? Hahaha.**

**Alright. I think I've addressed everything. Actually, I've probably missed a few things ... but whatever. I need to get to bed, considering I have an eight hour work day babysitting little brats at our yearly festival. At least I get paid for it... Sometimes, I really do hate my job. Haha.**

**Disclaimer: **I, Ashleigh, swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. The truth? I don't own the characters in _The Moral Instruments Series._ No, those sexy beasts belong to the lovely Cassandra Clare. I'm seriously just using her brilliant works of art and fucking around with them for my own amusement. I also do not own _She Is The Sunlight_ by Trading Yesterday - hell, I'm not that creative. But you know what I do own? I own your soul. How do you like them apples? **No copyright infringement is intended. All rights reserved. ©;**

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><p><strong>She Is The Sunlight<br>_chasing down a daydream_**

If anything, it was _too damn bright_ outside. Taking a drag of his cigarette, Jace Wayland paused as he looked around. Technically, it was against the law for him to be smoking on duty – but he didn't care. _Above the rules, _he had told himself many times. The ironic thing about the brightness was that it was the dead of night – maybe one, two in the morning. Didn't his training officer tell him that this was the prime time for crime?

Jace scoffed at that idea. That obviously wasn't the truth – he was sitting outside a small closed electronics store, just a couple of blocks away from Times Square. He could still hear the hustle and bustle that he so commonly heard as he patrolled his shifts. His golden eyes shifted back and forth, up and down the streets, completely bored. People passed him without a second glance; they was a good chance they thought he was an imposter and not the actual New York Police Department.

He had gotten that misconception before. The couple had been making some snide comments about how a real officer wouldn't be smoking on duty. That couple had stopped making snide comments after Jace flashed his badge. His face turned up into a small smirk as he thought about that couple – they had normally wandered around this area at this time of night, and since that night, he hadn't seen them. _Way to scare them of, Wayland_.

Jace let out a deep breath, a white puff of smoke going out with him. He had been smoking since he was nineteen, which was the legal age in New York. At first, it had been a stress reliever – and now, it was anything but that. What did he have to be stressed about at this point? Well, there was his job – being a New York City police officer was no easy task. Two hours ago, he had closed the scene on a brutal murder of a fifteen year old girl. He shuddered at the thought and took another drag of his cigarette.

Maybe it really was stress. Maybe this job was getting to him; he had been working on the force for at least four years now. _This is not a job you take lightly, Wayland. This job will fuck with your mind – it will fuck with your personal life, too, so toss that out the window _is what his training officer had told him on the first day. That was nothing more than the truth.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his patrol car and sighed – he would have to go back in that damn car eventually and wander around the city, fining taxi cab drivers for honking and arresting people for DUIs. It wasn't ideal for him; it lacked that certain adrenaline he got when he closed a crime scene or was in pursuit of a suspect.

The blonde haired officer stamped out his cigarette on the ground with his boot, making sure it was completely out. Once he was satisfied with the cigarette being fully put out, Jace decided it was time to make his way back to his patrol car and wander aimlessly through the streets of New York until he got a call. It was strangely quiet tonight – which, he knew, would instantly change tomorrow and he'd be running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

It was when he was wandering back to his patrol car when he saw a tuff of red. Instantly, his police officer instincts went through the roof – he was wary of this red presence. Red usually indicated blood. Slowly, he turned around, his left hand reaching towards his gun at his belt without a second thought. He titled his head to the side and squinted his eyes to get a better clue as to what that tuff of red was. His nerves were setting him on edge and he found himself bouncing on the balls of his feet as he moved forward, his steps quiet. He didn't want to startle it; that could lead to it running off, and that was the last thing he wanted.

He was halfway down the alley when he managed to make out what the shape was. It was a human figure and that tuff of red he had seen was the hair. It was long and slightly wavey, which give Jace the impression that the person was a female. He still kept his hand placed around the handle of his gun, just in case this person was dangerous … But the figure didn't appear to be moving. Instead, she was leaning up against the brick wall, muttering something under her breath.

Jace took another step and that's when he saw the pieces of paper scattered around the girl and a briefcase looking object next to her. Upon further investigation, Jace realized that the pieces of papers were actually sketches. They took his breath away; the artwork on the dirty street was incredible. Thousands of people stalked New York every day, showcasing their artwork … but there was something distinctive about this style that he hadn't seen before.

Then he heard the muffled sound and the sniffles coming from the woman. He knew that sound anywhere – it was the sound of a crying woman and he couldn't explain why his heart tugged at the thought of her crying. Her whole body was shaking from silent sobs and his hand dropped from his gun. At this point, the woman was not a threat.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" The redhead stopped and Jace kneeled down next to her, concern all over his face. He fought the sudden urge to brush the wild strands of hair out of his face and scolded himself for thinking that. Why would he be thinking that about this girl? He didn't even know her damn name! The girl stopped abruptly and caught her breath. "Ma'am, my name is Officer Wayland. If you need any help, I would be more than happy to assist you."

She flinched away from him, her hair falling in front of her face, as if she was hiding something. Jace recognized that telltale sign right away; he had seen it countless of times on women who had been a victim of something - or maybe she was just really upset about spilling her artwork all over the streets of New York. Her body weight shifted from one side to the other against the wall and that's when he saw them- the bruises that covered her beautiful face.

His suspicions had been confirmed. His mouth fell into a little 'o' of horror and his stomach twisted with guilt. Jace Wayland may be an ass to woman, but no woman _ever _deserved to be treated the way that she had. The bruises were healing at some points, but some of them were fresh – that terrible blue and purple that indicated it had happened an hour or so ago. This time, he didn't stop his hand that reached out to brush her hair back.

The woman shuddered under his presence, but didn't say anything. Was it just him, or did she feel that unexplainable spark that just shot through his body? Suddenly, the only thing that mattered was making sure that this girl was safe. That urge to protect her was overwhelming and Jace leaned his left side against the wall to keep himself from falling over.

"Ma'am, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help you. Can you tell me what happened?" She shook her head, her eyes – which he now saw were a bright green – looked at the artwork and Jace managed not to chuckle. He leaned over to one side, regaining his balance, and picked up the scattered artwork. There were only three pieces on the ground, but each one of them held something different in them.

One was the lake at Central Park, painted with charcoal. The second one was a couple walking in China Town, during a rainstorm – it was all black and white ink, expect for the red umbrella the woman was holding. And lastly, which Jace claimed his favourite one, was Times Square at night, painted in water colour. The woman's work – if this was her work – was absolutely exquisite. He placed them on top of each other and put them in the brief case like object.

"Thank you, Officer," she finally mumbled once he handed the case back to her. That was when Jace got a full front shot of her face, which revealed that the bruises were on one side of her face – the right one – and trailed down from her hairline to underneath her chin. The blonde officer had high reason to believe that those weren't the only bruises on her body. "I'm fine; my case just got caught in a gust of wind, that's all."

Jace tsked. "I'd believe you, but I've been patrolling this area for awhile. I know for a fact that there hasn't been a single breeze tonight." That was stupid move on his part – he was going to scare the lady away, when all he wanted to do was bring her closer. She turned her body away from him and Jace cursed mentally. "All I want to do is help you. I promise I won't hurt you, Miss …?"

This was always a delicate balance. She could run or she could tell him her name – and he was praying for the latter of those two possibilities. Instead, she took a deep breath, her expression betraying her. Jace recognized that expression easily – she was confused as to what she should do, and she was damn afraid of picking the wrong choice.

"Clary. Clary Fray," she finally said. She pressed herself up against the wall, instantly regretting telling the Officer Wayland her name. _No, he's not going to hurt you. He just wants to help you_, Clary told herself – but that constant fear never went away. _That's what _he_ told me… He promised that he'd stop, he'd promised that he wouldn't hurt me again_… Her body racked with sobs again.

"Miss Fray," Jace brushed the hair out of her eyes again, and she jerked back, her eyes wide. _She must have been in some distant place_, Jace thought to himself. This was a sign he had seen before of battered woman. He knew that Clary would be having an inner battle with herself - if it was right or if it was wrong to allow herself to trust him. Clary scrambled to her feet, panting heavily by this point.

Her hands were shaking and she was scared out of her mind. Somewhere, deep down, she knew that this man wouldn't hurt her – but her mind wasn't processing that. All she wanted to do was run far away and never come back. Jace took a step forward and she took a step back, and he cursed. At hearing the vulgar word leave the Officer's mouth, Clary felt her legs turn into jelly and she slid to the ground. She started rocking back and forth, rambling incoherently underneath her breath.

Instantly, Jace was at her side. He didn't touch her this time – he kept a reasonable distance, learning from his mistakes. "Mi- Clary." Somehow, 'Miss Fray' didn't seem right. "I promise, I won't do anything to hurt you. I just want to help you." He spoke the truth – Clary could tell by the tone of his voice and the way that he presented himself. With shaky hands, she wiped the tears away from her cheek and the corner of her eyes.

"How about we go to the hospital? We can get you cleaned up and make sure that you're okay. After that, we can go to the station and talk," Jace asked with a wary voice. He couldn't force the woman to do anything – if she wanted to run, then he would have to let her go. The thought of the hospital and the station could easily set her off.

"Okay," Clary finally responded after a few moments of consideration. Emotions stirred in her heart as he held out his hand. She took it after another moment's consideration and was surprised at how warm his hand was, even though it was the middle of September and starting to get cold. He squeezed her hand in reassurance, and while the gesture normally would have set her off, this one didn't. It was soft and calm, nothing violent about it.

It was when Clary didn't move that Jace spoke again. "Clary, I promise that I'm not going to hurt you. I swear to it on my badge, my life, and my mother's grave." His tone was serious, lacking any of his normal sarcastic nature. That sarcastic nature he was so accustomed to wasn't going to help such a delicate woman as Clary Fray.

"You promise?" Clary asked before they moved, her voice timid and weak. She was surprised the words even left her mouth. Her green eyes trailed up to Jace, looking for emotion that would disprove his actions. Instead, she found a few familiar emotions she hadn't seen in awhile – concern, trust, and willingness.

"I promise."

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><p><strong>I have to admit, this is kind of weird for me. I'm normally so paranoid about having long chapters ... but it's long enough and I just don't care right now. Lololol.<strong>

**Review! Or someone gets a funeral scene. ):**


	2. Who I Am

**Thank you guys for your reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying this story. I am too... I've always had fun writing stories about characters who have to deal with the five stages of grief. o:**

**And, well, the only thing I have to say is that I go back to school tomorrow. Senior year, bitches! I'm going to be pretty busy, however ... at least, I will be in awhile. During the school year, I tend not to update as much, and only update on the weekends. Thankfully, this story is short enough chapter wise that it will probably be updated faster than my other chapter stories. I was supposed to update my other story, but alas, I only got about three thirds of the chapter done. xD**

**Oh. Jk, I have one more thing to say. The first person to figure out what the chapter titles come from gets mentioned in the story. (:**

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><p><strong>chapter two; "who i am."<strong>

The couple sat in silence as they rode in the police car. Jace wasn't far from the hospital – five miles, perhaps – but that was far enough in New York City, especially at two am on a Friday night. They spent at least twenty minutes in traffic. Silently, Jace was thankful that this woman – Clary – was in the car with him, because it gave him an excuse to avoid giving taxis tickets for their honking fines. The officer had already called the station and gave them his update and requested a special victim's detective to meet him at the hospital.

By the time they arrived at the hospital, the detective had not arrived. Gingerly, Jace placed his hand on the small of her back. This time, Clary didn't flinch – she took the gesture as something natural and soothing, and a look of calmness flashed through her eyes. That look of calm instantly disappears as they step through the emergency room doors. It was too much for Clary and her hands were starting to shake.

Jace instantly noticed this and pulled her closer towards him in a protective manner. He knew this would happen; the hospital tended to make woman in her situation weary, especially when the doctor was of a different sex. Unsurprisingly, the hospital was busy as ever – but maybe the fact that he was an officer assisting a woman would get her through faster. He wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping the distance between them light.

"I told you I'm not going to hurt you. Therefore, I am not going to let anything else hurt you," He said softly, his voice low enough that only Clary could hear. Her green eyes looked skeptical, but she trusted him enough.

There was that unfamiliar word – _trust._ She trusted Simon, and he turned her back on her when she confided in him. She trusted her boyfriend, and he abused her. But there was something different about Officer Wayland that Clary couldn't put her finger on it. Instead, she shoved the horrible thoughts away and accepted his gesture, leaning in closer towards him.

It was one step towards progress – towards accepting – and Jace knew it. It brought a soft smile to his lips as they finally managed to get to the check-in counter. The process was speedy and quick, since it was a case of investigation and not a personal matter. It didn't help that Jace flirted with the attendant, who was more than willing to comply with his requests.

It took a matter of ten minutes for the information to be processed and for Clary to finally be admitted, and by that time, the detective _still_ hadn't shown up. This was frustrating; he understood that the detective was probably busy, but he had sent in that request a little over half an hour ago. They didn't take _that _long, did they? Jace looked at his watch as the nurse sat down Clary on the bed. The nurse was kind, but Clary wasn't exactly responsive – she responded to the questions, but they were the basics: your name, age, date of birth, etc., etc.

There was someone standing outside the window peering in when Jace looked up from his watch, and he recognized the badge hanging around his neck. Finally, the detective was here. He frowned as he looked at Clary and back at the detective. He didn't want to leave her, but he knew that he had to. "Clary, I'm going to talk with the detective. I'll be right outside the door, okay?" This whole situation had him thinking differently. Clary looked up at him with sad, green eyes, but finally nodded. She was turning mute, as many women did during the hospital trip.

He shut the hospital door behind him and turned towards the detective. He was an older detective - possibly in his late forties – had had been on the force for as long as Jace could remember. "Detective Garroway." Jace nodded and gave a tip of his hat, to which the detective responded with a small smile. He looked strained and finally looked towards the window and blanched.

"Clary," He finally muttered and took a deep breath. Jace pushed his brows together – the detective knew her? That was a total surprise; he hadn't seen that one coming. Detective Garroway turned sharply towards Jace, his eyes narrowed. "What the hell happened to her? And more importantly … where did you find her?" His tone of voice seemed so lost.

Jace scratched the back of neck. "I don't know, sir. If I had to guess, I would say that she's a battered woman. Those bruises on her face aren't from falling down." Jace was so sure he had seen the shape of a hand on one of them. "She flinches at little things and doesn't trust well. I reached my hand out towards her and she flinched away and starting sobbing." His heart tugged at the thought of Clary sobbing. "I was four blocks away from Times Square. I honestly don't remember the street. I've been a little more focused on making sure she's okay."

The two men looked back towards the woman in the hospital bed, who was shaking slightly and it looked like she was struggling not to cry. Jace cleared his throat as he tore away from her glance; he couldn't bear to look at her anymore. "If you don't mind me asking, Detective, but how do you know her?"

Detective Garroway's face formed a small, strained smile as he looked back at the younger officer. "She's my daughter. Or rather, my step-daughter – but for all intents and purposes, she's my daughter. A year or so ago, she got involved with a man – his name was Sebastian… something; I don't really recall what it was – and after that, we didn't hear much from her. Four months ago, she completely went off our radar. We haven't seen or heard from her since … until now."

That threw Jace off his balance. He knew that Detective Garroway could not go on with this case now that it was a conflict of interest and he could see the visible pain in his eyes. The older man sighed as he pulled out his radio from the loop of his belt, speaking into it, requesting a new detective to take over the case. Once he was done, he turned to Jace. "She trusts you, Wayland. I can see it in her eyes – and I haven't seen that trust in her eyes in months. Not since her best friend abandoned her, actually."

Her best friend abandoned her? That was cold. Jace tried to imagine a world without Isabelle and Alec and could not do it. The mere thought of it left him breathless. "I'm taking her to the station after this … if … if you want to talk to her," Jace stated delicately. The other man's eyes softened at the thought of this, but in return, he shook his head. So much for trying to change the subject.

"No. I want to and I know Jocelyn wants too as well, but I won't put that pressure on her." He ran his fingers through his graying hair. "I've seen that look countless of times on woman. You never forget it the first time you see it – and then you start seeing it _everywhere_. She won't accept nor will she fully trust. In her mind, she's having a constant inner battle – she knows in her heart that we won't hurt her, but her brain isn't processing that." He paused, looking thoughtful. "But there's something … _different _about how she responds to you. For some unknown reason, she's responding to you. She keeps looking over here every few minutes; I don't think she's recognized who I am yet. Go back in there with her. The other detective will be here in a little bit."

"I, uh, okay." Jace was at a loss for words, which was highly unusual. His mind traced back to a little over half an hour ago when he had felt that jolt of electricity shoot through his hand as he touched Clary's. Detective Garroway waved goodbye and Jace stepped back into the room, noticing how Clary's posture had changed. _She's responding to you_. Her eyes searched for his when the door shut, looking frantic – but that frantic nature changed as soon as she crossed his golden ones. Her rigid body relaxed a little as Jace took a few steps towards the bed, standing next to her.

The other detective came not long after Luke had left. Jace wanted to tell Clary that her step-father had been here, but knew that he shouldn't – that he _couldn't_. The other detective – Detective Brandwell – was a female, which Jace was silently thankful for. She asked Clary questions, and they only learned a few things: that the assaults were not sexual, but they could have been, that this had been ongoing for awhile, and that it was her boyfriend. After stating who had done this to her, Clary closed up.

The questioning and the examination were done by this point. Charlotte Brandwell had tried to coax Clary into speaking, but she had gone mute once again. There was no point right now – it was a lost cause, and the officer and the detective knew it. After half an hour, Charlotte finally made her way out of the room and back to the station. The nurse followed shortly after, which left Clary and Jace alone in the room.

Clary gripped the hospital bed's railing, keeping her balance steady. She hadn't shown it, but the examination had been driving her up the wall. She bit her bottom lip and the tears started to flow out again. Within seconds, she found her eyes connected with Jace's, who wore a concerned look in them. "Do I have to go to the station?" Her words were nothing more than a soft whisper, and he gave her a small, half smile.

"No. Not tonight, at least. We'll probably have to go tomorrow… but I have the day off tomorrow, and I'll go with you," He had intended to end his sentence right there, but didn't. "If you would like," he added on hastily, praying to God that she wouldn't reject him. She put her hands in her palms, clearly overcome with embarrassment.

"No!" She yelped and Jace looked taken aback, and his eyes flickered with hurt, but he kept his lips pressed in a straight line. "I mean, please, Ja-Officer Wayland … I _want_ you to go with me," she finally stuttered, surprised at her choice of words. Her heart was telling her that yes, yes she wanted him to go with her, but her brain was screaming at her for making such a stupid choice. _He's just going to abandon you, you know – just lie Simon. And if he doesn't abandon you, he's just going to hurt you, just like Sebastian… _Her brain was telling her, but her heart was telling her another thing. Clary wasn't crazy – she hadn't just imagined that spark that shot through her body whenever Jace touched her.

"If you don't want me to, I understand." She shook her head, protesting what he was saying. Jace was pleased; he didn't know if he had it in him to leave the girl alone, now that he had met her. Silence passed between them, and the nurse came back in. The nurse gave Clary her discharge papers, to which she gratefully accepted - maybe bringing her to the hospital had been a bad idea. Now it was a full blown investigation…

The nurse declared she was good to go, said her goodbyes and left without another word. Suddenly, a thought flicked through Jace's mind, and he frowned. Where was she going to stay? He could take her to her parent's house, if she requested it… But there was no way in hell he was going to let her to back to her apartment (he assumed she lived in with her abuser). A friend, perhaps? That thought was dismissed as soon as it entered his mind – it sounded like the only friend she truly had didn't believe her.

"Do you have somewhere you can stay tonight? Somewhere that's safe," Jace emphasized heavily on the word 'safe'. Clary looked frightened for a moment as she picked up on the meaning of his tone, but considered his question for a moment. There was the matter of her parents, but she couldn't do that to them – not after she had stopped talking to them, not by her choice… What if they didn't believe her, like Simon hadn't believed her?

Finally, she shook her head. "No, I … I don't. I can just get a hotel room or something," she mumbled, not liking the idea. Right now, she didn't want to be alone. The thought of being alone scared her. Jace scoffed at the idea, and a twinge of happiness shot through Clary's heart. To Jace, the idea of leaving her alone was ridiculous – if she was left alone, she could go back to that sick son of a bitch who was hurting or, or … or _worse_. He choked up thinking about that.

"Absolutely not. I don't like the idea of you being alone." He pursed his lips in attempt to stop the words from flowing out of his mouth, but it didn't help. The word vomit had set in and there was no going back. "You can stay in my apartment, if you would like. It's just me and my cat," Jace asked with a small smile, thinking back to his beloved animal. He figured he knew Clary's answer – so why the hell was he getting saddened by it? But her words surprised him.

"I think I'd like that."

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><p><strong>I like to think of Sebastian and Jonathan as two different people, to be honest - well, I mean, they are, but ... y'know.. Haha. And yes, I did mix in Clockwork Angel characters. I quite like Charlotte. is about two thirds done with the book.**

**Review, simply for the sake that I don't have any clever threats right now.**


	3. And I Can't Understand

**Hi. I'm a terrible updater. School has been seriously kicking my ass; senior year sucks, trololol. Anyways, I had half of this chapter done - I actually turned it in for a vocab assignment ... and I never bothered with it until now, where I promised myself I wouldn't update the final chapter of my other story until I updated this! **

**By all means, this is seriously one of my favourite chapters for any story I've ever written. At least, the very ending of it. :D **

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><p><strong>chapter three; "and i can't understand."<strong>

It was obvious to Jace that by the time he and Clary made it to the bottom floor of his apartment complex, she was effete – her drooping eyelids were a heavy indicator of that. Jace chuckled to himself in amusement – she looked terribly cute like that – as they made their way up the steps to the third floor, where Jace's apartment was. He wasn't in the noisome part of New York City, where it constantly smelled like garbage, but he wasn't exactly in the upper class area. It was suitable for him, however – it was a place to live and he took it with good grace.

And even though they walked in complete silence to the apartment, Jace's neighbour's – and two best friends – knew something was up. If anything, the Lightwoods were not oblivious; they were, in fact, the keenest people he knew. He knew that Isabelle would be peering out her peephole, waiting patiently to pounce … but Jace could only hope that Isabelle would know that today was _not the time_. His body posture was practically radiating as he shoved the key into the keyhole. When he didn't hear a door open, he knew that he was safe – for now. The blonde made a mental note to go talk to his friend once he got Clary situated.

"Well, it's not much, but it's home," Jace said as he shut the door behind him. Clary stepped forward, looking at the apartment in awe. It was so _different_ compared to the one she lived in. The biggest difference, other than the general colours, was that this apartment was almost spotless. Hers had been the home of an artist – paintings and paint everywhere, showcasing her slightly scattered brain. And the more she listened, the more she realized just how quiet it was – there was no caterwaul coming from the next room over that would prevent her from sleeping soundly at night. It was just the normal New York City sounds.

Jace cleared his throat as he watched her take in the surroundings. "There's a bathroom down the hall on the first door to left. After that is the bedroom, where you'll be sleeping. I'll be out here, on the couch." Clary nodded, a distant look in her eyes. She seemed off in her own little word. Jace couldn't help but wonder if she was going to take off in the night, but a rational part of his brain reassured him that she wasn't going too.

Clary put her case down, suddenly wishing she had her sketchbook – or something – to draw with. But, that wasn't the time for that – now was the time for her to take a shower, which she so desperately needed. It had been at least two days since her last shower. Actually, the hot water rolling down her body sounded like the best idea right now. "I'm going to take a shower," Clary finally mumbled, only loud enough for Jace to hear her.

He responded with a small smile, his eyes soft. "Alright," He responded. He was going to add on something else – about how he was going over to his friends to get her a pair of clothes – but before he could even finish his word, she was already down the hall. With that, he turned on his heels and headed out the door, making sure not to lock it behind him. For a few moments, he had no reason to believe that someone would randomly break into his apartment, even if it wasn't the smartest idea to leave it unlocked.

Within seconds, he waltzed through his friend's door, who was waiting for him. She was lying in a supine position on the couch, her left hand dangling off the side with a stern look on her face. He knew that look – it was a displeased look, mixed in with a little bit of interest. Jace fought the urge to roll his eyes as he plopped down on the couch next to her.

"I don't want to hear it. What I want is for you to help me out and get this poor girl a pair of clothes she can change into. I know she's not your size, but you're close enough." Today, Jace wasn't interested in the raillery that Isabella and he so commonly shared - he was there for one thing and one thing only. But he knew that he wasn't going to get off that easily; once Isabella started going, she started going. She had a hidebound personality and it was almost impossible to change her mind once the thought came to her.

"Oh, no, no, _no_. I'm not going to help you out until you tell me what the hell you think you're doing. Don't you see that she's got _bruises_ on her face? What did you do? Tell her all these lies and then convince her to spend the night in your little web?" Isabelle had become highly defensive over the past two years, due to her own abusive relationship.

Jace's blood was boiling. How was he supposed to explain to Izzy that this girl was _different _than all the other girls he had been with? There was something about her personality, something that kept him intrigued… Jace only scoffed and rolled his eyes. "That's chimerical, Izzy. Of course I noticed the bruises on her face. Do you really think I'd stoop that low?" Her eyes told him yes. He sighed. "Look. She didn't have a place to stay tonight and there was no way I was going to let her to go back to wherever the hell she came from."

The idea did not please Isabelle. She shot straight up from her position, her arms crossing against her chest. "And she couldn't get a hotel, _why_?"

"Because that's stupid! If she gets a hotel, the man who did this to her could come back. Okay? I don't like the idea of her being out there, alone, on the streets, when she could get hurt – _or worse. _You out of all people should know that." Jace had struck a nerve and he knew it. He watched Isabelle's face falter, knowing she was thinking back to her life two years ago. Finally, she stood up, her eyes dark.

"Fine. Fine. _Fine_. But that was a low blow, Jace. Are you really that much of a poltroon?" Jace raised his eyebrows at his sister-like-friend, surprised she even knew what the word meant. Without another word, Isabelle disappeared into her room, no doubt getting a pair of clothes for Clary. His mind wandered as he looked around the room – it had changed since he had been it, which had been a little over a week ago. The biggest thing was that there was now a picture of Isabella and her quasi-boyfriend named Simon.

This caused Jace to raise an eyebrow. From what he could recall, Isabelle and Simon hadn't been 'exclusive' … so why did she have a picture of the two of them? _Now she's really the one to judge_, Jace thought with a bitter laugh. Luckily, he didn't have to wonder about that for long, because Isabelle came back into the room with a bag in her hand. She thrusted the bag at him, her face impassive.

"She damn well better be worth it, because so help me God, I will kick your ass to next Tuesday." That was a dismissal if he ever heard once. This time, Jace did roll his eyes as he took the bag into his hands and muttered his thanks. Within a matter of minutes, he managed to obtain a pair of clothes that would be good enough for the night. Jace would also insist on laundry, partly because of his anal retentive personality and it was always better to have clean clothes.

As soon as he stepped through the door, he knew that was something was wrong right away. His sense has gone on high alert and he was mentally scolding himself. Leaving the door open had been incredibly stupid on his part, considering how he was in _New-fucking-York_… and he was a police officer! How absurd for him to think she'd be alright for even a few moments in an unlocked apartment, especially in the current state she was in.

"Clary?" Jace called out as he held on to the bag, shutting the door behind him and locking it with the deadbolt. There were no obvious signs of an entry – but that was never a dead giveaway. How many crimes scene had he secured looked untouched until he moved forward? Countless of them and he knew it. His stomach knotted as he moved towards the back of the apartment, to the bathroom where Clary was supposed to be.

Yet, she wasn't there.

"Clary?" Jace repeated himself, this time a little bit louder. He peeked through the bathroom door, but didn't see any signs of movement – or Clary, for that matter. Jace instantly backed out of the bathroom and considered the possibilities of where Clary could be. The living room and the kitchen were all out of the question, because he had passed them – which meant that the bedroom was the only plausible option. Without even blinking, he pushed his way into the bedroom.

Clary was there. She looked miserable and had a frantic look in her eyes, but she was there. Jace sighed in relief as he dropped the bag on the floor. He recognized her body posture – she was scared beyond all belief, but that look instantly softened when she saw Jace. It was just now that Jace realized she was only wrapped in a towel, showing off her skinny legs and bare shoulders. Jace gulped as he tried to look away from her barely clad body, but found out harder than possible.

She wrapped her arms around him and Jace was very well aware of the fact that the only thing keeping the towel on her body was the fact that she had her arms around his waist. "Oh, God, Jace. I … I … where were you? I came out of the shower and you … you weren't there." There were tears coming out of her eyes right now, instantly getting his shirt wet.

Jace flinched. He knew exactly why Clary was responding the way she was and it was his fault. He had promised that he was going to keep her safe, and in a way, that had been a breach of that promise. In was all in good intentions, but it was still a break in a promise. He tightened his grip around Clary, mentally scolding himself for what he had done. He ran a hand through her wet hair without thinking, but she didn't falter away. If anything, she held onto him closer.

"I'm sorry, Clary. I should have told you – my best friend and his sister live right across the hall. She's roughly about the same age and size as you, so I asked her to lend you some clothes. That's all, I promise. I thought you'd take longer in the shower." This was true – he had never known a girl to take such a short shower. He locked one of his hands in her silky smooth hair as she pushed her head away from his chest, her green eyes locking with his golden ones.

Clary was unsure how long they stayed like that, but it was comforting. At that moment, she didn't think about the bruises on her body – the ones that had been hidden her clothes – or the fact she was pretty much naked with a stranger. It didn't matter, because she felt _safe_… and safe was something she hadn't felt in a long time. Eventually, she cleared her throat and a faint blush crept across her cheeks.

"I'm sorry for freaking out… I just … I don't know," she mumbled, her tone laced with embarrassment. Jace hesitated as he unlocked his hand from her hair and brushed it against her jaw, where a faint outline of a bruise still was. She flinched for a moment, but held her ground.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." He kept his hand lightly along her jaw for a few moments before he cleared his throat. "Isabelle should have given you something to sleep in and a pair of clothes for tomorrow. I'll put your clothes in the wash for tomorrow, in case you want those as well." He didn't want to tear away from Clary, simply because of the towel and …. well, he just didn't want to leave.

Clary shook her head slightly, bringing herself out of whatever mental state she had been. Her face turned into scarlet as she seemed to realize how she was dressed and pulled away, pulling the towel closer to her body. With the awkward moment lingering in the air, Jace ran his hand through his hair. "I'll be out in the living room if you need me," he finally said. With that final statement, he turned on his heels and made his way towards the living room.

The television provided a great distraction. He found himself engrossed in one of the stupid cop shows and had watched at least two episodes before he heard something that sounded like a muffled scream. Jace shot up from his spot on the couch and ran back into the bedroom, where he found Clary thrashing back and forth on the bed. She was still sleeping, which worried Jace even more. He recognized the signs of a nightmare.

He didn't think, he just acted. He just pulled himself into the bed and pressed his body weight against Clary's, holding her down and whispering sweet nothings into her ears. She still continued thrashing around for a couple of moments but found herself easing into a sense of familiarity. It was the smell of Jace that caused her to open her eyes, her breathing heavy.

They didn't speak. They just kept their eyes locked together and Clary stopped moving underneath him. Fifteen minutes later, she managed to fully calm down and her breathing had returned to normal. Jae realized this and moved from his position. Jace made a move to get out of the bed, but Clary grabbed onto his wrist. The electricity shot between them and Jace froze.

"Don't go… Please, don't go," her voice was more than a whisper but Jace heard her as clear as day. He titled his head to the side as he looked at Clary, looking for any signs of betrayal on her face. There was none. His mind was telling him that this was a terrible idea but his heart was saying yes. Instead, he lay back down on the bed and Clary snuggled in closer to him, her whole body relaxed. Without thinking, one of his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him…

"I'm not going anywhere, Clary."

The redhead sighed happily as she closed her eyes. Clary knew that it probably wasn't smart, but something inside her told her that Jace was safe, that he wasn't going to break his promise. Her trust when it came to boys was shot for the most part … and yet, she knew that with Jace, he really wasn't going anywhere.

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><p><strong>Seriously, I love that last little bit ... I'm such a hopeless romantic... <strong>

**Review, alright? You know you want too. (:**


	4. Why My Heart Is So Broken

**Yup, I'm still a terrible updater. But don't fret; this story is finally going the places I want it to go. And dear God, it's an short-story now. So much for a seven-shot. /snort.**

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><p><strong>chapter four; "why my heart is so broken."<strong>

Jace was the first one awake the next morning. He froze as he realized why the left side of his body felt so warm. It was Clary who was next to him, fully clothed, giving him body heat. He took a deep breath as he contemplated moving his arm from around her waist, but in the end, decided against it. The blonde felt at peace with his arm wrapped around her tiny body. Hell, it felt _natural _– a feeling he hadn't had in a long time. He closed his eyes again as he listened to Clary's light breathing, waiting for her to wake up.

The idea of Clary waking up scared the hell out of him, honestly. When she had been screaming and thrashing around so violently last night, he didn't even think twice when she asked him to stay. What if that changed once she woke up? What if it just scared her away even more? _She's responding to you. _His stomach turned as he thought about her step-fathers words. Just because she was responding to him one day didn't mean she'd do so well the next day. He had seen _that _one before.

Twenty or so minutes after he woke up, Clary started to stir next to him. Her body twitched and Jace held his ground, with his arm still wrapped around her tiny waist. She shifted her body, but never got rid of Jace's arm around her. It felt good to have his arm around her, a feeling that Clary hadn't had since she had been with … her throat closed as her eyes jerked open. No, she was not going to think about him. Not right now, when she was at ease with herself.

They laid there in silence for a good portion of the next hour, basking in each other's presence. It was only when Jace looked at his watch did he decide to get out of the bed, for it was almost one o'clock in the afternoon. They had slept four hours and Jace had never felt so refreshed. It had been months, maybe even years, since he had a decent night's sleep.

"Jace…" There it was, the tone of voice that made his heart tug in a violent way. Clary rolled over on her bruised body, wincing at the pain from the bruises, and found herself looking into Jace's golden eyes. He had no choice; he was stuck – her eyes were so captivating to him that he had no choice. He bit the inside of his bottom lip, gnawing on it as he waited for Clary to speak.

"Thank you. I … I … Thank you, again. I, um…" Clary stumbled as she felt a blush creep on her cheeks. Jace still hadn't removed his hand from her waist, even though she had changed from her original position. He formed a tight smile on his lips as he looked at her. It wasn't a forced smile, not at all – it was quite easy to smile when he saw her – but it was the fact that they were _so damn close_ and yet so far away. Jace mentally scoffed at himself for the teenage thoughts.

"It's not a problem, Clary." He removed his arm from her waist, only to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes. Clary felt her body tense at this, but she took a deep breath as she remembered that this was Jace and not that son of a bitch, and she calmed down. He sighed as he looked at his watch again. "And as much as I'd love to stay in bed, it's past one 'clock in the afternoon, and I believe we agreed on getting you to the police station."

Clary blanched at the word 'police station.' Yes, she had agreed to going to the police station – but that didn't mean that the thought didn't scare the hell out of her. She shifted her position on the bed, suddenly uncomfortable.

"You'll … you'll come with me, right?"

If this had been any other person, Jace would have laughed in their face. But alas, this was not any other person - this was someone special, someone who didn't deserve laughter in the face. His eyes turned serious as he looked at her pained expression by the thought of him not coming with her. Once again, she was throwing out absurd ideas – he had promised he wouldn't let anything happen to her, and he was damn well going to keep that promise.

He rested a hand on her hair, to which she didn't flinch away. He offered her a soft smile as their eyes locked again. "Of course. I told you I would, did I not? I'm here for you, Clary. Always." He paused after the words left his lips – always? Had he seriously just promised her always?

Yes. Yes he had.

And it felt damn good to him.

Clary managed a smile – the words made her nervous, but she appreciated them. Images of a happier time, a better time, flashed in her mind – and those images were of her … and Jace? The smile disappeared from her face as she thought about this with Jace. She took deep breaths as she turned away from Jace in a haze and jumped out of the bed, rushing into the bathroom.

This startled Jace. She had moved so fast – the only person he had seen move that fast before was Isabelle, and that was when she was trying to get a certain boot at the mall. He pushed his brows together as he got out of the bed, contemplating what he could have said. And then it him – _always_. God, how stupid could he have been? He cursed out loud as he made the bed. Once he was doing making the bed, he figured it was time to get dressed – fifteen minutes had passed and Clary still hadn't come out of the bathroom.

He pounded his fist against the dresser in frustration. Jace just needed to take his mind off things – things like Clary, for example – but that was almost impossible. They were going to the police station. Ah, yes, the police station! That was going to keep him on his toes. In the back of his mind, he worked on a way to subtly get Clary to see her step-father. It was devious, yes, and somewhat sickening, but he felt that she would truly benefit from seeing her step-father, especially since he was a special victims detective.

While Jace was choosing his outfit and considering possibilities, Clary was crying her heart out in the bathroom. She had no idea if he could even hear her, but given the fact that he hadn't come rushing in, she assumed that he couldn't. The images were killing her, and it was killing her because she knew that a happy ending with Jace wasn't a reality. As soon as he was done helping her with the police report and investigation, he would leave, would he not? He was going to leave her, just like Simon.

The bile rose in her throat as she thought about her best friend, but she quickly shoved it back down. She was not going to think about her best friend – or former best friend – and what he was doing right now. Her gaze moved towards the bag on the counter, left over from last night. What was that girl's name again? Clary couldn't remember to save her life, but if she ever saw her, she'd have to thank her. The clothes had fit her just right – even if they were a little too snug for her tastes.

After changing, Clary suddenly wished she had foundation. Foundation would be enough to cover these damn bruises on her face. She was just thankful that the shirt the women had allowed her to borrow was long sleeved, which allowed for her bruises to be covered from the rest of the world. Her face was a lost cause, though … Would they make her take off her clothes so they could photograph the injuries on her body? That seemed plausible, but scared the hell out of her.

There was a knock on the door, which caused her to jump. Jace's voice was muffled behind the wood, and she had no idea what he was saying. Her brain was buzzing around like a worker bee, blocking out all sense of reality. With a shake of her head, she opened the door to find Jace standing there, with a worried look on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it at the last moment. It wasn't worth it, getting her frustrated.

Instead, he took her tiny hand into his, feeling another jolt of electricity surge through his body. Her hand was so warm in his … And, to the police officer's surprise, the girl didn't flinch away. If anything, she moved closer into his frame, feeling comfort.

They walked out of the apartment in silence. Jace liked to think that Clary was doing reasonably well, given the fact that they were going to go to the police station, out of all places. It was only when they were had arrived out onto the busy street that Clary had gone rigid and refused to move forward. Jace stopped as well and turned his head to the side to look at her, a confused look on his face.

"Clary? Is that you?"

The voice belonged to a male, which was enough to make Jace snap his head up in attention. He recognized the man instantly – it was Simon, Isabelle's pseudo-boyfriend. His lips fell into a tight line as he looked at Simon, wondering just how the hell he knew Clary.

"Simon," Clary breathed, her voice nothing more than a light whisper. Clary was truly terrified of her former best friend at this point… She had told him the truth and he had just left her, shaking his head and muttering something about how it couldn't be possible. Her legs felt like jelly as she stared at him, unwilling to say more. Without thinking, she held onto Jace's grasp even tighter than before, as it was all she could do to keep herself up-right.

Simon looked at Clary through his glasses. It had been months since he had seen her, and she looked different. She was skinny, clung onto the blonde man like a desperate women, and had bruises on her face. _Bruises on her face_… The young man blanched as he looked at his best friend. When she had confided in him, he hadn't seen any physical evidence. On top of that, Sebastian was such a nice guy. Why would he do anything like that to beautiful, loving, Clary?

Now, looking at her, he felt the guilt gnaw at his stomach.

His hand twitched as he looked at her. The boy was just longing to reach his hand out and stroke her beautiful red hair, but he decided against it. His right hand went lip as he looked at the door, feeling the awkwardness in the air. Simon cleared his throat. "I'll see you around, Clary," he said as he pushed through the doors to the apartment complex, leaving the two of them in the busy street.

Jace instantly turned his attention to the young woman next to him and his heart tugged at the sight. She was frozen in place and her eyes were turning glossy. The officer tugged at her unmoving hand, pleading for her to follow him. It took a few moments, but she finally responded and moved forward. The golden haired man led her to the stairs to the building and sat down, motioning for her to do the same.

All Clary could do was look at him and Jace returned the stare with pleading eyes. It was becoming hard to breathe for Clary and she looked around frantically, trying to think of ways to escape. There were plenty of ways to run away from Jace, but she couldn't force herself to do it. Her heart was telling her to fall into his lap and her mind was telling her to run like the wind. Blinking back the tears in her eyes, she finally collapsed into Jace's lap, letting her heart win the battle.

"Shh, baby, it's alright," Jace soothed as Clary curled up against his body, resting her head in the crook of his neck. Her body started to shake violently from the sobs and he ran a hand through her hair, in an effort to calm her down. It pained Jace to see her like this … and it also made him incredibly curious. She knew Simon? What had happened with her and Simon? The fact that she knew the rat-boy (as Jace had dubbed him awhile ago) proved that the world was really small after all.

He pressed his lips against the top of her head, basking in the softness of her hair. His lips lingered as he whispered sweet nothings, praying to God that she would calm down. Clary snuggled in closer to him and clung onto his shirt, and he wrapped an arm around her in a protective manner. "Clary…" But the words would not form on his lips as he spoke her name. Instead, the young police officer just let her soak his shirt.

And yet, Jace couldn't help but feel the disappointment. He wanted to take Clary to the police station, to get her story and charges dealt with. He wanted to take her to the police station in hopes that he could reconnect her with her step-father. But that didn't happen – and the more he thought about it, the more unrealistic the concept seemed. Instead of doing all those things, he sat there on the stairs to his apartment, holding a very broken woman.

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><p><strong>Reviews make me smile and get Jace and Clary closer to a happy ending.<strong>


	5. Rejecting Your Love

**Trolol, I do take forever to update. Dat's cool, though, cause I'm super busy. I have officially finished one quarter of my senior year. (: I shouldn't be as busy, with swimming ending, but I'm still not sure. Phsyics is kicking my ass, and I mean badly. Christ. I've never been so close to failing a class... I've failed almost all my tests so far. Stupid teacher. ):**

**With that being said, if you have facebook, add me! You can find me under 'Sliad Fanfiction'. Needless to say, my username is too long for Facebook standards. :P Okay, her's chapter five~**

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><p><strong><em>chapter five; <em>**"rejecting your love."****

It took a good hour before Jace could finally coax Clary into moving from the steps to the apartment complex. For the final forty-five minutes, Clary didn't do anything – she didn't cry and she didn't speak. It made the young officer nervous as she clung onto his body so desperately, but he knew – oh, he knew – that it would be best to let her wallow in her own misery for awhile, no matter how much he wanted to help her. The movement itself was subtle; he tugged slightly on her hand and she responded with a hiccup, eventually moving off his warm body and standing on her own two feet, their hands still attached.

"Are you sure you want to go to the station?" _Please say yes. Please say yes, _Jace thought to himself. He was terrified of the idea of Clary saying no. It was obvious that the bastard who was doing this to her needed to have charges brought against him – _nobody _deserved to be beaten like that, especially not Clary… There was a pull to his heart at the thought of _anyone _hurting Clary. When did he get so defensive over the women he had just met some twenty four hours ago?

She gave a weak nod, pushing herself closer to Jace. His reaction was subconscious; he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her as close to him as he could, and she snuggled right in. His body went rigid, but then relaxed. "Okay, let's go then. It'll be about twenty minutes, since we've got to go to special victims."

The hesitation Clary held was obvious, but she didn't let that stop her. Instead, she kept on walking forward with Jace through the throng of people, a small frown on her face. "Isn't special victims sex crimes? I wasn't … I wasn't _raped_," she whispered, the mere words terrifying her. She took deep, shallow breaths as the word 'rape' itself … Had she been raped? There had been times when she had been knocked unconscious from the pain and woke up with an odd feeling around her private area…

Jace sensed her distress, but he mistook it as fear for seeing her step-father. "Not necessarily. I mean, yeah, it's mainly sex crimes – but special victims is, well, special victims, which include battered women, the mentally handicapped, and children." Jace paused for a moment as he looked around for a taxi cab. The idea of taking Clary on the subway didn't seem all that appealing to him. He hailed a taxi and the two slid into the seat.

He exchanged the address to the taxi cab driver, who gave him a pointed look as he looked at Clary. Jace froze as he looked at Clary; she had been wearing very little makeup this morning to begin with, and with her crying session, it was completely gone now. The bruises on her face where black and blue and obviously indicating that they were fresh. Instead, Jace just scoffed at the taxi cab driver and not so subtly flashed his police officer badge at him. At least that got him to not say a damn word.

The ride was more like thirty-five minutes, with the traffic, but Clary didn't mind. She enjoyed being with Jace – she really did. She was completely at ease … until she stepped out of the taxi cab and was standing outside the special victims precinct. Thousands of thoughts were running through her head, most of which she couldn't control. What if Luke was there? What if someone told Luke? What if they didn't believe her? _What if he was there? _The last one made bile rise in her throat and tears form in her eyes.

"Sweetheart, you need to breathe. I'll be right next to you the entire time, I promise. I won't go anywhere – unless the detectives ask me to, and I can't disobey an order from them." Well, he could, but the last time he had done that resulted in a black mark on his file, something his father had thrown a huge fit about. Clary nodded in response – her mouth appeared to be sewn shut – and moved in closer to Jace, missing his warmth.

They pushed through the doors and it took all of Clary's will power not to turn around and run like a bat out of hell. It was too much for her – all of the officers, with their crisp uniforms, the detectives, with their badges hanging at their waists or around their necks … Jace led her through without a single hitch, taking her to the front desk. Without a second thought, she slid away from his side and walked behind him, so she would be somewhat unnoticeable to the person at the front desk.

The male working there looked bored out of his mind, but his whole demeanor changed once he saw Jace. "Well, there's someone I haven't seen in a couple of weeks. What's kept you so busy? Izzy's been dying to have you over for dinner." Both the male and Jace made a face, which only made Clary even more confused than she already was. These two knew each other? And Izzy … Hadn't she heard that name before?

"Overworked and underpaid, as usual … And I really think I'm going to pass on the dinner, Alec. The last time I ate her food I almost died of food poisoning."

"I don't blame you. I try, I really do … but Magnus is only home so many hours and I have to live with her. Anyways, what can I help you with?"

Jace turned around, looking at Clary. He noticed the confusion on her face, as well as the obvious claustrophobia and nerves settling in. The twenty-five year old gave her a soft smile. "Clary, it's alright. I'm right here, okay? I told you that I won't leave your side." It was tedious, having to explain this over and over again to her, but Jace didn't mind. He watched her expression carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. Eventually, she stepped forward next to Jace, and he wrapped his arm around her waist again.

Alec's eyes narrowed as he took in the girl next to Jace. She was a pretty thing, with vibrant red hair and brilliant green eyes … but the bruises on her face hid that. He titled his head to the side in confusion as he looked at the couple standing in front of him. Since when did his best friend have a heart? It was obvious by the way that Jace held her, looked at her, and even talked to her, that he cared for her – like, _truly cared_.

And it was oh so obvious that Clary was hurting, physically and emotionally. He had been working in special victims as a deputy officer for a little over three years now, and he had seen thousands upon thousands of women like Clary. It always pained him that the statistics of battered women was overwhelming… His blue eyes looked back on his computer as he typed in her name – Clary – into the computer. Within seconds, a small document showed up, indicating the information from last night.

"I'll let Detective Brandwell know that you're here, but feel free to head on up." Alec gave Jace a questioning look, but he shook his head in response – _we'll talk later_, is what it said. Clary didn't miss the interaction between the two men, but shrugged it off. Her mind was putting together all the pieces of the puzzle; this was probably his best friend who lived across from him. Jace tugged carefully at her wrist, which finally managed to make Clary move forward.

Alec gave her a bright smile in return and she flinched. It wasn't that Alec was a bad person – that she knew of- but that uneasiness was settling in her system. The two didn't even look alike and it was already making her reconsider her decision. Her hand gripped Jace's, hard enough that Jace winced. This time, he held his tongue as they moved forward. The blonde was holding a mental battle in his head; if he reassured Clary over and over that he was going to be there for her, which could result in terrible pain – not only for him, but for her… But if he didn't tell her constantly, then it could result in pain as well.

It was clearly not a win-win situation.

They stepped into the office, which was flooded with police officers. Half of them were running around frantically, holding files in their hands and letting out strings of curse words. This was nothing new to Jace – his own office looked like this, only slightly more chaotic due to the constant training for new recruits. Clary took in a sharp breath as she looked around, her eyes scanning for one person, and one person only.

When Clary didn't spot who she was looking for, she let her body relax. Okay, so he wasn't here – and that was a good thing. If _he_was here, at the police station, then it was done for. The bile that had risen in her throat subsided and things were starting to feel right now. This made her grateful; she needed everything to feel alright in order for her to proceed. Her raging mind – for once – was at peace.

They sat down on the closest bench, which was right next to the entrance to the office. Clary rested her head on Jace's shoulder and he played with a stray strand of her hair. Jace was nervous, if not more nervous than Clary. He wasn't stupid; he had seen the look that Alec had given him. It was the same look that Isabelle had given him last night – the one that said _what the hell are you doing? _

And Jace really didn't know the answer to that question.

If anything, he couldn't explain it. It was like the question was on the tip of his tongue, yet the words would cease to form. He racked his brain for answers, but alas, found nothing – expect for the most obvious, cliché one, which Jace refused to believe. It wasn't possible; he had only known Clary for roughly twenty-four hours … but that connection they shared was unexplainable.

No, the concept of them being soul-mates was ridiculous.

… Or was it?

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, ignoring the persistent question. If he thought about it, he knew that he'd surely go mad. Instead, he intently focused on Clary's strand of hair. It was by focusing on her hair that he noticed her posture change out of the blue, which only caused him to frown. His golden eyes scanned for the source of what made Clary go rigid, but he found nothing in return.

But Clary did. Clary would know that sound anywhere and it sent chills up her spine. It was _his _laugh. She scooted closer to Jace, praying for his protection. What was he doing here? Didn't he have Tuesdays off? Or was it even Tuesday anymore? Her days were clearly muddling together. Clary focused on her breathing, which was sporadic and causing her a headache … and why the hell was he in _special victims_, out of all places?

"It's him, Jace. Oh God, it's him. Can we get out of here? Please? I don't think I can be here any longer, please just get me out of here," she said frantically, the tears welling up in her eyes. Jace pushed his brows together in frustration as he looked around – who the hell was she talking about? He watched her carefully as her eyes drifted over to a man, and they widened in fear.

Jace's whole body froze as he looked at who Clary was so afraid of. No, there had to be some mistake – there was _no way _that this man could be the one who was abusing her… It didn't seem possible! But the fear in his eyes was real, and it was possible. He had seen thousands of people like him brush off murder like it was no big deal.

"_Sergeant_ _Sebastian Verlac?" _Jace hissed out the words. This bitter tone of voice made Clary push away from him. Of course, he was just like Simon. He didn't believe her –how stupid could she have been? Her boyfriend was a police officer – a sergeant – so therefore, he wouldn't – couldn't – be abusing her. The tears spilled from her eyes as she moved farther away from Jace.

"You're just like Simon. I trusted you! You think that because he's a police officer, he can do no harm, right? Well that's bullshit! I _trusted _you, Jace, and just like Simon, you don't even believe me! You're all the same!" She cried before she got up, turned on her heels, and fled from his sight. She was too fast for Jace to even consider going after – he had lost her in the throng of people within seconds.

He cursed loudly. Yes, at first, he had doubted what she said – of course he had. The thought seemed so illogical! But as he thought about it, he realized it was actually illogical for him to assume that he was the good guy in this situation. But his tone of voice hadn't been directed at Clary; no, it had been directed at Sebastian. She had misread the situation, like he should have known that she would. How stupid could he have been?

But that didn't matter, not right now. What mattered was that he had to find Clary. She was a danger to herself at this point, and if she found Sebastian, she would probably wind up in the morgue within a few days. His heart clenched at the thought of Clary in a morgue, and he stood up from his seat, his eyes still scanning. He found nothing.

_Christ, Clary, where could you have gone?_

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><p><strong>Jace, you idiot.<strong>

**Review, my loves! Or Clary winds up in a moruge. ):**_  
><em>


	6. Without Love Gone Wrong

_Okay, I have no excuse. I've been slacking, plain and simple as that. I've had more motivation for my other stories - which, btdubz, if you like Vampire Academy, check them out (; - but I haven't had the right motivation for this one. School is really kicking my ass... but that's an excuse. So, don't kill me. (:_

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><p><em><strong>chapter six; <strong>_**"without love gone wrong"**

Her mind was in a daze. She couldn't think properly; instead, she just acted. In all fairness, she knew that she probably should have stopped and listened to the context of his words, but that didn't happen for the redhead. No, instead, she just decided it would be best to bolt and not question anything… Besides, if Jace didn't believe her, then who would? Jace was a member of the police force, as _he _was.

The tears were starting to build up as she pushed through the throng of people, in a desperate attempt to escape the precinct. All Clary wanted to do was get the hell out of there, but it was becoming impossible. She would turn left and find herself going the wrong way. The problem was that it all looked so damn familiar. There was a twinge of guilt in her heart as she thought about Jace, and how if she hadn't left him, she would have been able to find her way out of the precinct with ease…

But it was too late for that. It was too late to dwell on her past; Clary had made her decision. Granted, it probably wasn't the best decision, and she knew that… but she was going to deal with the consequences, no matter how severe they may be. With frantic eyes, she turned on her heels and went left instead of right this time.

Finally, the places were starting to look familiar. She recognized the 'don't drink and drive' poster from coming in the first time with Jace. The redhead sighed in relief as she moved forward. In just a few minutes, she would be out of this horrible station and free to wander in New York City. From what she knew, Sebastian was working, which would give her the ability to go home and grab her stuff and get the hell out of dodge…

As she considered this possibility, she felt her throat close up. No, the idea of leaving Sebastian was ridiculous; he would find her. He would tell the station that she ran away and he was concerned for her safety… and he would find her. Clary was stuck in a rut and there was no possible way to get out of it. She twirled an end strand of her red hair as she looked for the obvious exit sign.

And at long last, it came into her view. She almost smacked her temple in frustration, because it seemed so painfully obvious that the exit was there. Clary could finally breathe freely without a restraint; the exit was a few feet away, and with every step, she was getting closer. The birds were starting to sing in her mind… If she made it to the exit, she could run far away…

Unfortunately, fate didn't want her to make it to the exit. A hand grabbed her wrist, and she let out a light squeak of surprise. She would know those cold hands anywhere…

"Babe! I haven't seen you in days. Where the hell have you been?" She froze, but she knew that she had to turn around to face her boyfriend. If she didn't, the consequences would be too high tonight. Instead, she managed to turn around and give him a soft smile.

That smile faltered as soon as she saw the anger in his eyes. It was small, but it was there… and it was also very controlled, given how he was in his uniform. Sebastian wasn't stupid; he wouldn't do anything to her until they were alone. _Hold your ground_, a voice stated in her head. The voice sounded strangely like a young police officer she had just run away from.

"I got lost," she finally said. "I went the wrong way and wound up… Well, I'm not sure were." The idea was incredibly plausible, given her slightly scattered brain, but Sebastian knew better. He pulled her into a hug. To anyone else, this would have looked like a simple exchange of love…

He hugged her tightly, so tightly that Clary was struggling to breath. She didn't realize it before, but she knew that her ribs were probably bruised. He lowered his head at an angle so he could press his lips to her ear. Again, it was another one of those things that would look sweet… but they weren't.

"I'm not fucking stupid, Clarissa. Don't lie to me; you know that lying gets you nowhere." Her whole body went rigid as he whispered into her ear. The tears were starting to form in the corner of her eyes. Was this seriously happen in a police station?

Yes.

Yes, it was.

And nobody was doing a damn thing about it.

Sebastian leaned back and studied Clary. A small smirk formed on his lips when he saw her eyes becoming glassy. He loved the feeling he got when he saw her cry. It was something to do with the power; he liked making her wither in pain… He shook his head in an attempt to get rid of those thoughts, given how he was at work. He couldn't let those amazing thoughts assault his work ethic. _They couldn't know…_

He pressed a quick kiss up against forehead. "We'll talk more when I get off work." He looked at his watch and smiled, which made Clary take a step back. She knew that smile; it was that evil smile, when he knew something that she didn't. Her hands started to shake as he looked at his watch. "Oh, how about that! I'm actually off duty! How about we head home now?" He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led the way out.

As his arm went around her shoulder, Clary's eyes were frantically searching around for Jace. Why had she left him again? If she had stayed with him, she wouldn't be with Sebastian. She would be talking with the Detective, who would be trying to help her… Her mind was buzzing with uncontrollable thoughts and she didn't know what to do. _Please, God…_

God had heard her prayers. As she turned her eyes to the left, she found herself looking right at familiar blue eyes. They belonged to Alec, the officer at the receptionist desk. Her eyes lit up in recognition as she frantically tried to hold his attention. The redhead succeeded easily.

Alec titled his head to the side as he looked at Clary, confusion written all over his face. What had happened to Jace? Why was she with … _him_, out of people? Alec knew of Sebastian; yes, but the two didn't get along. They had been training partners back at the academy and Sebastian and been nothing but an asshole to him. But as he studied Clary, he noticed little things; like how her whole body was rigid, her hands were shaking, and she looked downright _terrified_. The young male stood up from his position at the front desk, but it was too late. The couple had disappeared in the crowd of people.

They were as good as gone.

Alec's mind went blank. Although it was against regulation, he pulled out his cell phone and sent a quick text to his friend. He could only just pray to God that his friend would actually look at his damn phone, instead of just brush it off like no big deal.

Five minutes passed and eventually, his blonde haired friend appeared in front of him. He looked distraught and kept running his hand through his hair, which Jace usually did when he was stressed. "Are you fucking serious?" Jace slammed his fist down on the counter top in frustration.

"I'm sorry. I didn't recognize it was her until it was too late; I would have done something if I had known… I thought she was with you?" Alec sat back down in his seat and waited for his friend's story.

Jace made a face. "She was. And then she told me who _he_ was. I doubted it for a second, and then I realized that it was stupid. I was pissed – still am, in case you haven't obviously noticed – and she misread my intentions. I was pissed that it was him… She thought I didn't believe her." Alec narrowed his eyes at best friend. "Don't look at me like that. I know I fucked up and I _have _to find her. If I don't, she's going to wind up in a fucking morgue."

Alec sighed. He didn't want to have to repeat this information to Jace, because he _knew _this information… but it was pointless. He had to tell the blonde haired man the truth, regardless if he was supposed to know it or not.

"Jace, I'm sorry. I really am… but Clary's gone. There really isn't much you can do about it now. You're just going to have to wait and see."

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><p><em>This story is coming to a close! Well, in about five chapters. Between five and three chapters left.. and this isn't even the beginning of it. Oh, it only gets more exciting from here on out. Bwhaa.<em>

_Review. Because you love me. (:_


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